Interconnected
by piefaced
Summary: The world would be strangely out of whack if they weren't all together. Shuuji/Akira/Nobuta
1. Guilt Free at 3AM

**Guilt Free at 3am**

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"Poke! Shuuuuji-kun. Wakey wakey!" Akira sings, peering at Shuuji, upside down.

Shuuji groans, throws a pillow at him and rolls over in bed.

"Go away," he mumbles.

"Shuuji! Shuuji! It's Nobuta day! Nobuta's coming!" Akira says while his make-shift hand puppet prods Shuuji in the ribs. Shuuji burrows himself deeper in his blankets to avoid the wandering hand which is venturing a little too far down for his comfort.

"Whoever let you in," he says, "I'm killing when I wake up."

"Papa gave Akira a key," Akira says with great satisfaction as he yanks the blanket away from Shuuji.

They have a short tug of war over the blanket which Akira wins quite easily because he cheats and tickles Shuuji. Satisfied with his winnings, Akira stands up and wraps the blanket around himself. Loose papers in Shuuji's room go flying as Akira tramples all over Shuuji's room, flapping his make-shift wings and singing (badly) at the top of his lungs: "Bird! I'm a bird! A big bird! A big big bird!"

Shuuji tries in vain to shh him frantically. It doesn't work obviously, as Akira just stops flapping for a moment to smile cheerfully at Shuuji and to dangle the keys in his face. ("Look, it's a worm," he says loudly before darting away from Shuuji's vengeful hands.)

Shuuji mentally runs through various ways of killing Akira and disposing of the body afterwards. He disappointingly notes that Akira never notices his glares of doom and that they've never had any effect on Akira normally (unless you were Nobuta), let alone when he's half-asleep and ready to crawl into a hole and die.

He finally settles on focusing a haggard look on Akira instead. "The sun's not even up yet. It's _three _am."

"So?" Akira says and 'kons' Shuuji on the nose. He seems to find this hilarious and sits down on Shuuji's bed to laugh at him.

"Nobuta's not supposed to be here for another _six_ hours. _Six_," Shuuji stresses when Akira's finished laughing himself silly at his expense. He seems to be twice as bizarre as usual, and three times more hyper. (Shuuji suspects excessive consumption of soy milk.)

"I'm bored," Akira drawls.

"Bored?" he echoes in disbelief. "Can't you be bored in another five hours or something?"

Akira appears to consider this seriously for a moment, then – "Nope! Anyway, Nobuta said to be early – earlier than last time!""

Shuuji would hit him if not for the fact that he knows there's usually some purpose to Akira's madness. Akira's crazy and strange, but even he wouldn't wake Shuuji up for no reason - he's weird, not suicidal - unless there's something he really wants to say. Or, in this case, wants to say at three am in the morning for some obscure reason that probably makes sense in Akira-world, but clearly not in Shuuji-world because Shuuji-world is nice and _normal_ and involves being asleep at three am in the morning.

He rubs a hand over his face, tired and wanting desperately to get back to bed. "I don't think she meant 'come at three am' Akira," he says dryly.

"But earlier is better," Akira protests. "We can be together longer, no?"

He's right of course, but - "What is it? You haven't fallen in love again or anything have you?" he jokes, weakly.

All of a sudden, Akira's enthusiasm seems to deflate right in front of Shuuji's eyes. He curls himself into a miserable ball on Shuuji's carpet and hugs himself tightly. Even his hair seems to droop with him. He doesn't look at Shuuji; instead he stares out of the window uncomfortably, pursing his lips in that strange way of his. He shrugs half-heartedly when Shuuji nudges him.

Shuuji feels inexplicably guilty; firstly for taking so long to realize that something was wrong (It's Akira, dammit. He's crap at hiding stuff, Shuuji _should_ have known) and secondly, because that was supposed to be a joke – he didn't mean it to hurt.

"Akira," he says and motions to him. "Come here."

Akira crawls over and sits by the head of his bed.

"Tell me?" Shuuji asks, softly.

Akira is silent for so long that Shuuji almost believes that he won't tell him, but he sucks in a breath – as if it hurts and begins slowly. "Akira - Akira is scared."

"Scared of what?"

He looks down at his hands, then looks up at Shuuji's ceiling and swallows. He stubbornly refuses look at Shuuji. "Scared that Akira didn't completely give up Nobuta."

"You promised," Shuuji reminds him gently.

Akira looks miserable. "Head yes, heart don't know."

"Look at me," he says.

Akira jerks his head up, eyes dark with a hurt and uncertainty that makes Shuuji's heart clench - in sympathy or pain, he's not sure. Akira should not look like that – not happy, crazy and poignant Akira who drinks too much soy milk, steals from other people's bentos on a regular basis and who's one of Shuuji's best friends. The world would be strangely out of whack with an unhappy Akira.

It's not _right_. It's not _Akira._

"You know," he says suddenly, and the uncertainty in his voice makes Akira frown sceptically.

"You _do_ know," he says again, sure and confident this time. This is _Akira_, his best friend. He _knows_ Akira. More importantly, he knows Akira well enough that he can say Akira knows himself better than anyone else ever could. And Akira is resolute in a way that Shuuji's never been. It's one of things that Shuuji likes about him. Akira's always honest; he's always truthful even when the truth hurts him or someone he likes. He stands by everything he says because he always means it with every fibre of his being. That's the kind of person Shuuji wishes he could be and knows he's not.

"I know?" Akira echoes.

"Akira's heart is pure," Shuuji says, and lays a hand over Akira's chest, feeling his heart thudding under his fingers. "Akira always knows his own heart."

He smiles at Akira. Not the smiles he uses with their classmates, but the secret Shuuji smile, the one that he rarely gives. It's the one that begins slowly at the corners of his lips until it grows and breaks out across his face, wide and free and he _shines_.

"Tell me," he says.

Akira frowns and thinks for a bit. He opens his mouth to speak and pauses in indecision. He sends Shuuji an agonized look.

"Akira," Shuuji says, softly. "You _know_."

"I – I know?" he says hesitantly, continuing on when Shuuji nods encouragingly. "I – I gave up on Nobuta. I said I did. I did. Say it. To Shuuji. Give up. Right."

"Right. You did."

"I – I did. Shuuji!" he says suddenly and grabs Shuuji by the shoulders, shaking him. "I did! Heart gave up – head and heart! You're right Shuuji! Super right!"

Shuuji laughs. "I'm always right, idiot."

There's a distinct pause, while they stare at each other (well, Akira studies Shuuji, and Shuuji tries not to fall asleep now that the crisis has been averted). Then, Akira's face clears over, and he says wonderingly, "I - I do know - Shuuji's the best. The best – best everything!" And with that, he cups Shuuji's face in both hands to give him a big, wet kiss on the lips. "Akira Kiss, one hundred percent success rate!"

Shuuji goes bright red with embarrassment. He swats at the hands that try to squeeze his cheeks and furiously swipes at his mouth with his hand. He makes a face. "What the hell is a hundred percent success kiss? Anyway, all I can taste is soy milk. Definitely not one hundred percent _at all_."

"Soy milk is good for you!"

"Whatever. Now shut up and let me sleep already."

* * *

When Nobuta comes by six hours later, having been let in by a tired Koji, Shuuji is still in bed, sleeping soundly. Akira is perched on the side of his bed, watching him, hand clasped loosely in Shuuji's.

"AKIRA," Nobuta says as she shuffles into Shuuji's room.

Akira looks up and says to Nobuta solemnly, "Shuuji's the best."

Nobuta nods in agreement and says, "Best everything" which makes Akira grin widely and flap his hands animatedly (but forgetting that he's still attached to Shuuji so all that happens is a strange one armed flap).

"Two as one?" she asks quietly.

Akira doesn't even have to think. "Three as one," he says decisively and slides a hand into Nobuta's. "Connected, ne?"

Nobuta regards their hands for a long, silent moment, and then nods again, firmly this time. Akira nudges her, gesturing with the hand in hers to Shuuji's limp hand hanging off the bed. Taking the hint, Nobuta reaches out and pulls Shuuji's hand to her by his pyjama sleeve.

"Yay!" whispers Akira, almost vibrating with excitement. Shuuji mumbles when the bed shifts under Akira's bouncing and he sleepily opens his eyes to regard Nobuta and Akira with a small smile.

"What are you two doing?" Shuuji says as he yawns and sits up in bed. "Something weird again?"

Nobuta smiles. Or tries to, at least.

Shuuji tries in vain to hold back a smile as Akira giggles.

"Um, we'll work on that some more," he says, and pats Nobuta on the back.


	2. Warmer Together

**Warmer Together**

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The first thing Akira does when they're getting ready for bed is to rifle through Shuuji's wardrobe to find some pyjamas to wear.

("Where's yours?" Shuuji asks in exasperation.

"Forgot them," Akira says absently, pulling out one of Shuuji's old flannel shirts. He rubs it between his fingers and after a moments thought, rubs it against his face as well. "It's soft!" he exclaims. "I want this!"

"Those aren't pyjamas –" Shuuji starts to say, but seeing the way Nobuta curiously fingers a corner of the shirt, he sighs. "Whatever. Keep it.")

When Akira's done with picking out all their pyjamas ("Nobuta is _not _wearing boy clothes to bed!"), he commandeers Shuuji's bathroom. Akira has a strange ritual where he does things in a certain order (Shuuji often wonders what he does in there, but he suspects that it's better for his sanity if he doesn't ask). It takes forever so by the time Akira's done in the bathroom, Shuuji's already crawled into bed and turned off the lights.

Pouting when he realizes Shuuji's gone to bed without him, Akira scrambles into bed and slings an arm around Shuuji's waist comfortably.

Shuuji bats away his arm half-heartedly and only sighs when Akira insistently slips an arm around his waist anyway. Turning around to properly convey what _he_ thinks about Akira's space invading ways, Shuuji notices that Nobuta's still standing besides the bed hesitantly.

"Nobuta?"

"Bed, Nobuta! Shuuji's bed is comfy!" Akira says, craning his neck to peer at Nobuta.

Nobuta regards the ground silently for a long moment.

"Is – is it okay?" she finally asks, looking up at them through her fringe.

Shuuji smiles warmly. "Akira doesn't bite," he says and Akira squawks indignantly. ("Of course Akira doesn't bite! Shuuji's _mean_.")

Smiling a little, Nobuta quietly slips into bed.

* * *

They're a tumble of limbs and warm flannel on Shuuji's small bed. Shuuji curls up against the wall, facing away from Akira who's hogging all the pillows. Akira buries his nose in Shuuji's neck and occasionally snuffles quietly in his sleep, mumbling strange things which make him reflexively tighten his grip on Shuuji's waist.

Nobuta's slightly further away on the very edge of Shuuji's bed. Her hands are tightly fisted in the flannel shirt Akira's wearing and she's wide awake, staring up at Shuuji's ceiling. It's not a very interesting ceiling, as ceilings go, but Akira's hung a cardboard pig up on a string and the pig sways a little when Nobuta gently taps at it.

Akira makes a noise next to her and rolls over in his sleep. Nobuta lets go of his shirt in surprise when one hand finds hers and interlaces their fingers.

"It's cold," he murmurs and pulls her to him, his eyes still closed. "We're warmer together."

"Come in Nobuta," Shuuji says sleepily from the other side of Akira, sliding a hand under Akira's arm, beckoning to her.

Nobuta stares wordlessly at Shuuji's hand and his pineapple hair style (which is all she can make out from the dim lights of the street lamps outside Shuuji's window) and Akira's face, smooth and child like and still.

She reaches out, and they're all connected again.


	3. The Morning After

**Chapter Three: The Morning After**

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They wake up in a sleepy tumble of aching backs, limbs jammed into uncomfortable places and Akira having kicked all the blankets off the bed sometime in the middle of the night.

Shuuji extracts himself from under Akira's dead weight and carefully makes his way over Akira who's splayed out all over the bed, taking up as much room as humanly possible, and Nobuta's curled up form, her small hands still clutching Akira's shirt tightly, eyes squeezed shut; a little tense and withdrawn even in sleep.

"Shuuji," Akira murmurs sleepily, hands tightening around Shuuji's ankle. "Where are you going?"

Shuuji freezes, one foot raised in the air and balanced precariously over Nobuta.

"Breakfast."

"Sleep," Akira says and jerks insistently on Shuuji's ankle.

"But- but," Shuuji says weakly and resigns himself towards being pulled down again, landing in a heap all over Akira who makes a tired kissy face at him and hugs him.

"Nobuta agrees," Akira mumbles. "Shuuji should be in bed."

Shuuji startles.

Nobuta's wide awake and studying them curiously with that small frown of hers, apparently quite content with watching Akira manhandle him back into bed. For once her hair isn't covering her eyes; instead, it's spread out all over Shuuji's pillow and tangled with Akira's, black against black.

"Right?" repeats Akira and tugs on Shuuji's waist again.

Nobuta blinks at them wordlessly for a long moment. Her lips twitch suspiciously and Shuuji swears she's laughing at them.

Akira waits patiently for Nobuta's answer, eyes bright and as eager as a child presented with sweets.

Finally, she nods, once.

He crows in victory and Shuuji resigns himself to staying in bed for a few more hours, secretly a little pleased.

* * *

"We are _not_ staying in bed all day Akira."

"Bed," Akira says, and hugs Shuuji's pillow to his chest.

"AKIRA," Nobuta says in that peculiar way of hers.

Akira sulks. He stalls. He distracts them. He looks agonized. He finally sighs and rolls out of bed limply, pouting at them from Shuuji's floor, as if to say, _look at what you made me do._

"Works every time," Shuuji says under his breath and tries valiantly not to smile smugly when Akira looks at him suspiciously.

* * *

"Don't touch anything Akira," Shuuji says firmly, calmly flipping the last egg. He prods at it carefully and hums in pleasure when it feels right.

("I only like it exactly halfway between runny and firm," Akira says solemnly, looking at Shuuji imploringly.

"Who's the cook here?")

He slides the egg onto Akira's plate, and takes the opportunity to whack Akira's hand with the spatula when he attempts to start in on his breakfast before everyone else.

Akira holds his hand to his chest and gives Shuuji a wounded look. When all Shuuji does is snort at him, he turns to Nobuta. She quietly closes Koji's bedroom door and shuffles to the kitchen table where Akira's watching Shuuji clean up.

"Is Koji still in bed?"

Nobuta nods.

Shuuji sighs. "I'll wake him up," he says with a sigh. "You two – eat."

Nobuta starts in on her breakfast by carefully cutting her food into equal sized portions while Akira shovels it in his mouth like no tomorrow. He's about to sneak something of his onto Shuuji's plate but Shuuji returns with a half asleep Koji in tow.

He prods Koji into his seat and gives Akira a nonplussed look when he realizes that Akira's been steadily stacking food onto his plate.

Akira shrugs and 'kons' him. "Sharing is caring," he says cheerfully.

"I'm eating fine."

"Sharing," he repeats and makes a heart with his hands. He presses his heart onto Shuuji's chest firmly. "Is caring."

Shuuji's still slightly miffed but he starts in on his breakfast without a word. Koji who's half asleep at the table slides down in his chair further and lays his head down, snoring softly. Shuuji gently removes the fork still in his hand and as an afterthought, pushes his glass of juice further away as a precaution.

They eat in silence until Nobuta says suddenly, "Home."

Akira blinks. Shuuji looks up curiously.

"Feels like home."

Shuuji doesn't say anything, but he smiles softly.

Akira pauses, one fork of food halfway to his mouth. He sets it down and turns to Nobuta and Shuuji.

"Home," he agrees. "Home with Shuuji and Nobuta."


End file.
